


The Old Familiar Pain

by serenityandstartdust



Series: Zelda/Marie one-shots [2]
Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Self-Harm, i'm really just posting all my darker fics tn huh, self-harm ideation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:40:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25214056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenityandstartdust/pseuds/serenityandstartdust
Summary: Zelda took a sip of her whiskey. It burned her mouth going down, the old familiar pain, and she immediately refilled her glass before slumping into one of the armchairs in front of her office fire. She was so tired. Taking another sip from her glass she considered the events that had brought her here.
Relationships: Marie LaFleur (Chilling Adventures of Sabrina)/Zelda Spellman
Series: Zelda/Marie one-shots [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1822561
Comments: 3
Kudos: 28





	The Old Familiar Pain

**Author's Note:**

> This is about self-harm and self harm ideation. It's also written from a personal perspective based on my own experiences and is no way meant portray a universal or monolithic view of depression and self-harm. Please read with that in mind, especially if that could trigger you. The title is from Hurt by Johnny Cash, a super good song imo.

Zelda took a sip of her whiskey. It burned her mouth going down, the old familiar pain, and she immediately refilled her glass before slumping into one of the armchairs in front of her office fire. 

She was so tired. Taking another sip from her glass she considered the events that had brought her here. 

Random stresses and failures had been building for weeks but this had been a particularly bad day. A ‘Macbeth sort of day’ Edward had once said. The sort of day where everything went wrong.

It had started poorly of course, Zelda had overslept the alarm and snapped at Marie for allowing her to oversleep. She’d immediately regretted it, and apologized, but the damage had been done. 

The hurt on Marie’s face had burned itself onto Zelda’s heart, and she would feel guilty about it for weeks. She was so careless all the time, she was old enough by now to know there were consequences for her actions, but she never ever stopped to think until it was too late. Marie might leave her someday, and if she did it would be for things such as this.  
Zelda finished her second glass of whiskey and sighed again, staring into the depths of the flames. Dimly she was aware she was overthinking, but the larger part of her knew that she deserved this, this horrible guilt and exhaustion. It was a fitting punishment for losing control, for all her failures. 

Snapping at Marie had hardly improved her temper, and by noon the students, a hopeless, foolish lot, had driven her to such a temper that sent them all away to practice individually, just so she could have a moment’s peace. 

Unfortunately, they had taken the opportunity to practice their new Hecatean defensive and offensive spells, and by the time Zelda had located the source of the explosions, Melvin was hemorrhaging all over the floor. 

He was fine now of course, but she knew the blame for the incident rested with her. Hilda’s chiding look had indicated she thought as much. As foolish as the students might be, however headstrong and careless, as academy directrix they were Zelda’s responsibility. 

They had nothing and no one left in the world, Blackwood and the pagans had taken everything from them. How could she even think to call herself a High Priestess if she couldn’t even care for the most vulnerable members of her coven? 

The rest of the afternoon had passed consumed by such thoughts. Seeking some peace and quiet after the long day, Zelda had returned to the mortuary. Looking back on it, she had no idea why she’d ever thought that the mortuary would be a place for rest. Yes, everyone was supposed to be gone, yes, Hilda, and Ambrose and Sabrina had all said they would be gone that evening but when Zelda had teleported into the entryway, a different sight than Vinegar Tom resting peacefully had greeted her. 

As Zelda teleported into the entryway, Sabrina had disappeared. Not simply disappeared as if she was astral-projecting or teleporting, oh no. Sabrina had been in the center of a huge pentagram drawn over the entryway, Ambrose circling the pentagram and chanting.  
Before she’d had time to stop them, or even open her mouth, Sabrina had vanished in a pillar of flame. 

She’d confronted Ambrose about it immediately, but he’d only given her a sigh, half-angry, half-defeated. The conversation was still echoing in her head, along with all her failures playing on repeat. 

“She’s gone to Hell Auntie. Again. She has to go the long way round now, in order to come back properly. I’ve told her time and again she should tell you but…” He’d punctuated the sentence with a weary shrug. 

“How long had this been going on, exactly?” She’d asked faintly, shock still ringing in her ears.

“Since we defeated the pagans.” Ambrose had replied, walking away. 

Usually Zelda was armed with a scathing reply to anything, but she just went to the kitchen and sat down. What else was she to do? 

After all they’d been through, Sabrina still didn’t trust or respect her. In some ways, nothing had changed since those first stressful weeks after Sabrina’s birthday, a new law of nature and the realms challenged every day. All this time and she’d taught Sabrina nothing. 

Zelda had poured herself a drink in the kitchen, then teleported back to the office. Cluttered as it was with horrible memories of Faustus and the Caligari spell, it was apparently the closest thing she had to a sanctuary now. 

Sitting in front of the fire Zelda was struck again by how tired she was. Tired of losing control, tired of disappointing people and being disappointed. She was tired of failing the students as a teacher, Sabrina as a mother, and Marie as a lover. 

Oh Marie. Zelda cared for her more deeply than she could have ever believed possible, but one day, sooner or later, Marie would leave. Zelda could see it happening as clearly as if it already had. One day, unable to control herself, she would snap at Marie, and get angry, be too withdrawn or too controlling, and Marie would leave and it would be entirely her fault. As ever. 

A small part of Zelda knew that Marie cared for her, deeply, even if she couldn’t fathom why. Another part wondered where her cat o’ nine tails was. 

Hilda had taken and hidden the one she’d had at the house, but Faustus had kept one in his office. She’d gotten rid of most of the magical objects and raving mad books he’d kept in here, but there was a back cupboard she hadn’t gotten to yet. 

The small part of her wished even more strongly that she wasn’t alone, but she was already walking to the cupboard. 

It was heavy in her hand, coarser than she remembered and stained. She placed it on the desk and sat down in the chair, methodically undoing the buttons on her lace shirt until it fell from her shoulders. The shirt gathered at her waist, kept in place by the waist of her slacks, but her shoulders and back were exposed. 

Reaching for the handle of the whip a thought struck her. If she did this, Marie would certainly see the marks. 

Zelda could heal the cuts of course, but without Hilda’s help they would scar, probably quite badly, and Marie would notice the appearance of new scars as well. The more she thought about it, how she could hide the scars, or lie to Hilda about how she got the cuts, the less tenable it seemed. And the more she just wanted to feel Marie’s arms around her.

Zelda dropped the whip as if burned and reached for the telephone, dialing Marie’s number from memory. Marie had a cellphone, something Zelda would never deign to, and while it wasn’t always on, if it was she tended to answer. 

“Bonjour ma Cherie, comme ca va?” Marie answered, her voice cheerful and soothing. Zelda closed her eyes and leaned back in the desk chair, letting Marie’s voice envelope her.

“Je suis comment je suis” Zelda replied. ‘I am how I am’. It was better than a bald-faced lie, which would be just another thing to make her feel guilty. “How are you?” 

“I am well! I just arrived at the mortuary, doing some tidying up in the greenhouse” Marie hummed, soft music audible in the background. “I’m planting some herbs I think might take here, harvesting some flowers for Hilda, there was an interesting one actually, the fleur du lune I think she said, quite lovely, and such a smell mon dieu. I think it will be very useful in potions and the like, but ah-” 

Marie paused for a moment and the music stopped “You did not call me just to see what I was doing no? Is something wrong?” 

“No, not at all” Zelda lied relexivly “I- I just wanted to say that I’m sorry. For this morning. When I snapped at you.” 

“Oh” Marie sounced slightly taken aback. “Thank you Cherie, but it’s alright. Truly.”  
A slow silence grew between them, so quiet Zelda almost thought she could hear Marie’s heartbeat. 

“Are you alright Zelda?” Marie asked after a few moments “Have you been thinking about this all day? Marie slipped back into French. “Comment allez-vous, variment?” ‘How are you feeling, really?”

“Je suis tellement fatigué” Zelda said finally. ‘I am so tired’. It wasn’t the whole truth, but it was something, more than she usually told people. 

“Would you like me to come see you? I have not had dinner yet and you would feel better if you ate something.” 

“I-” Again her instinct was to protest, and lie, but this is why she had called. She desperately wanted to see Marie. “Thank you. That would be nice.” 

Marie teleported into the office barely a moment later, loose trousers and sweater dusted with dirt. Still drifting in her own mind, Zelda had managed to button up her shirt but the whip still sat on the desk. Zelda saw Marie’s eyes flick to it, the wicked form of it seemed to draw the eye, but she didn’t comment on it, just knelt in front of Zelda and kissed both of her cheeks as a greeting. 

“How are you my Zelda?” Marie asked, her warm brown eyes worried.

“Meiux maintenant” Better now. Marie smiled slightly bug her mouth kept it’s thin, anxious line. 

In the face of Marie's presence the numb, dead feeling receded enough for Zelda to smile slightly back in response. 

“Thank you, Marie” 

“Of course” Marie replied, brushing a lock of Zelda’s hair behind her ear. “Are you hungry? You should eat something.” 

Zelda knew she should say something to Marie, tell her how much it meant to her that she was here, that she had come immediately, even though Zelda hadn’t asked her to, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead she nodded, squeezing Marie’s hand. 

“Riverdale?” There were marginally better restaurants in Riverdale and it had the additional benefit of not being Greendale. 

“Tres bien ma Cherie” Marie replied, leading Zelda out of the dark office. 

Dinner was… well it was average for Riverdale, which to say it was barely passable, but since Marie was there, it was nice. Zelda saw herself being withdrawn and distant, knew she should be speaking more, but the dark cloud still clung to her throughout dinner. Being with Marie helped though, as she’d known it would, and by the time they were driving back to Greendale, Zelda almost felt like herself again. 

Marie had mentioned the mortuary, Hilda was baking a cake of some sort, but Zelda didn’t think she could face Sabrina’s looming absence. Marie thankfully didn’t press her on it, just drove them instead back to the academy. 

Rather than going back to the office, or to Zelda’s bedroom at the academy, Marie suggested a small balcony off the third floor, one overlooking Greendale woods, which Zelda hadn’t been to since her student days. 

Zelda brought out her whiskey and a small table and they sat, under the stars, drinking in silence until Marie spoke.  
“Do you want to tell me what was wrong earlier, Cherie?”

Rather than saying anything, Zelda took a sip of her whiskey, considering her options. Under any other circumstances, with anyone else, the answer would be a firm ‘no’. Zelda Spellman didn’t talk about her feelings ever, and certainly not feelings like this. All her life, strength had come from silence, from handling her problems herself. Under the most dire of circumstances she could confide in her family, but no one else. 

Looking back on it, she wasn’t sure where secrecy and silence had gotten the Spellmans though, besides an untimely grave. Marie was part of her world now, and Zelda wanted to share everything with her, even this.  
Zelda looked up from her whiskey to find Marie giving her a soft look out of the corner of her eye. 

“It just… it happens sometimes. Some days are worse than others.” Zelda said quietly. 

Marie nodded but didn’t say anything, letting the silence grow between them. It wasn’t the sort of silence Zelda was used to, the silence she liked to use as a pointed accusation to whomever was misbehaving at the moment, but a softer one. 

It hadn’t really happened for years, but more and more, and always around Marie, Zelda felt safe. Just for a moment she could let her guard down.  
“I used to -it used to be better- before” She broke off, trying to gather her thoughts into a coherent sentence. “For years it didn’t happen -not as much or as badly- but after everything that’s happened, with the Coven and Dark Lord, and-” Zelda voice broke but the words just kept coming. “After Blackwood. It’s been worse.” 

Even looking past the emotional effects of courting Fuastus, it had certainly been easier to resist her more self destructive tendencies when someone wasn’t handing her a whip every night. 

Marie took a long breath, and made a small sound as if she was going to say something, but didn’t. She did reach out though, and took Zelda’s hand.

Relief settled over Zelda like a veil. She could hardly have borne it if Marie too had reacted as Hilda usually did, what with the fussing and suffocating worry.

They continued to sit in silence for a moment, holding hands in the dark Greendale night.

**Author's Note:**

> Noticed when posting this that both of the fics in this series end pretty much the same way, I might keep that up.


End file.
